


That Holiday Flicker

by TurtleBread



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, New York City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleBread/pseuds/TurtleBread
Summary: In the City That Never Sleeps, Christmas is the kind of event that catalyzes more than it should. Luka and Marcin tough it out anyways and come out better from it.
Relationships: Marcin "Jankos" Jankowski/Luka "PerkZ" Perković
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12
Collections: DreamServer Secret Santa





	That Holiday Flicker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xalatath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xalatath/gifts).



> Hiiiii Xal <3 
> 
> Wishing you a very happy holiday season~; thanks for always hyping up my fics (even those silly little tweet drabbles that I did) and for starting my nights off right with a little 'good morning' action <3 
> 
> I wrote some Jerkz for you to enjoy! I hope you like it :baby1: 
> 
> Honestly, I wanted to spam :baby1: after every sentence but it would probably be too hard to read this note then oops. Please imagine x1000 :baby1:'s in this note.
> 
> Sidenote: Not beta-read as of time of posting, sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes (':

“It’s weird, not having snow.” Marcin is talking to himself out on the balcony of their temporary accommodation, eyes flickering listlessly across the unfamiliar landscape. Luka doesn’t know why he’s out there; there’s not much to see except for the endless expanse of high rise buildings. 

But maybe Luka is biased. He can’t imagine any sight more beautiful than Marcin, splayed out beneath him under the gentle glow of the half-full moon. He imagines warm skin beneath his fingers, the way Marcin sounds when he’s unraveling just for him, and shakes his head to dispel the image. The sun is loitering, and there is plenty of time for thought-chasing later.

“You wanted to go to New York,” he says instead, voice rough and tinged with amusement. “And now that you’re here, you want snow instead?” 

Marcin’s sigh is a full-body motion, and he seems to lose a few centimeters of his height from the weight of it. He turns to Luka, who is sitting up bare chested in their shared bed, and closes the french door behind him as he re-enters the room. Luka throws open the blankets just as Marcin tumbles into him.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” he mumbles as Luka pulls the covers back over them. Marcin’s robe bunches up where the fabrics meet, and Luka lets out a low whistle at the meters of pale skin unveiled, marred only by the purple-blue bruises of their more scandalous activities. He thumbs each of them as they appear, relishing the whimpers he gets in response. “It’s too early to be horny. And it’s Christmas, isn’t there some rule about behaving on Christmas morning?” 

“And isn’t there a rule about putting on proper clothes before you go outside?” Luka parrots back in response, tone reverent instead of accusatory. “I can’t believe you went outside in just your robe. Fuck, that’s so hot.” 

Marcin preens at the praise, embarrassment dissipating under Luka’s appreciative gaze. He rises to rest on his knees, letting the robe slide off to reveal more marked-up skin. “Well,” his voice is coy despite the brazenness of his actions, “I guess you can have your first present now then.” 

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ 

  
It’s well past breakfast by the time they make it out of the room, morning hunger satisfied from drinking each other in. It’s colder than they expect, which Marcin handles by complaining and Luka manages by wearing a long sleeve along with a jacket for his boyfriend to steal later. 

Later turns out to be just one block away from the hotel. 

“Lukaaaaaaa,” Marcin whines, “Why is it so cold if it’s not going to snow? I’m going to die; it’s so cold. And it’s going to be embarrassing because there’s not even any snow.”

Luka snorts, letting go of Marcin’s hand to remove his outer layer and help Marcin slide his arms into the sleeves of it. “If you want my jacket, you just have to ask you know.” Once both arms are in, he pats down the material and pulls the zipper all the way up. He bought this jacket two sizes too big for himself, so it sits oversized on Marcin which is just the way they both like it. “No need for the dramatics.” 

Marcin is much taller than him, but Luka pats his head anyways before squishing his cheeks together. “My little winter Capybara,” he teases, skin warming beneath his palms. “You’re so cute, actually.” 

Later, when they’re both cozy under the covers and about to drift off, Marcin will be able to pass off his blush as a cold-given souvenir from the city that never sleeps. For the moment, he closes his eyes and basks in Luka’s hold; his reddening skin inviting warmth to his chilled features. Luka lets go too soon, though, and when Marcin finally opens his eyes he appears entirely too far. 

And for an agonizing minute, Marcin thinks he won’t turn around; that every step that Luka takes will leave him two steps behind and desperate in his wake. Then, Luka turns and flashes a smile that puts all the Christmas lights to shame. He holds out his hand, which Marcin shuffles forward to grab, and the world starts to turn again. 

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ 

The sun is more than midway through the sky as Marcin drags Luka through the Brooklyn Navy Yard Holiday Market, eyes filled with childish delight. They have a half-completed shopping list on Luka’s phone for the rest of the team, but it goes ignored in the name of spontaneity under the blessings of the glimmering tinsel attached to each booth. 

After a few stops, they manage to track down a tacky reusable bag covered in small silver bells to fill with their mix-and-match assortment of treasures. For Martin, they manage to find a chess set featuring the various World of Warcraft mobs as pieces (“So he will spend even less time on League and maybe even out the competition a little,” Luka had laughed while paying the vendor). Mihael’s present consists of a variety of anime figurines, each decked out in cute little Christmas costumes (“I’m sure I recognize some of these…” Marcin mumbled while perusing the glass displays). 

The Polar Express replica bell they snagged for Rasmus jingles just as loudly as all of the bells on the bag combined, but no noise is louder than the sound of their stomachs rumbling. It doesn’t take much more wandering for them to come across a cookie stand, purchasing a dozen of the treats before settling into a bench on the pier. 

“What a good haul,” Marcin cheers, mouth full of crumbs. “And these cookies are a banger as well. Should we buy some to bring back to the hotel?” 

Luka hums absentmindedly in agreement, subconsciously wiping the stray bits of cookie off Marcin’s lip. His eyes are trained somewhere distant, but Marcin can’t tell where when he tries to follow his gaze. He can tell by the way Luka freezes that he can feel him frowning, even if he doesn’t mean to. 

“Just a moment, _ljubavi_ ,” Luka mumbles as he stands up, leaving Marcin with the cookies and the overfilled bag. It hurts, watching him disappear into the crowd. And though Luka returns almost as quickly as he left, Marcin still plasters on a faux smile instead of conjuring a real one. 

“Sorry,” the Croatian apologizes, face flushed. “I saw something.” 

“It’s fine,” Marcin replies, hoping he doesn’t sound as small as he feels. He leaves the bag on the bench for Luka to carry himself and clutches the paper bag of cookies against his chest. “I’m getting tired, anyways. Let’s go to the next stop?” 

Relieved, Luka sneaks a cream-colored box in with all the other gifts before running after the tired Pole.

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ 

The Rockefeller Center is less crowded than Luka expected, partially due to the early hour at which they arrive. With the silver almost full moon shadowing the orange glow of the setting sun, they manage to find a seat right by the ornamented tree overlooking the ice skating rink.

On the rink, there’s a couple that skates leisurely around the rim, holding hands the whole way. Marcin looks at where his hands are empty but doesn’t try to reach for Luka. He startles when he feels an arm thrown around his shoulder. 

“Do you want to skate?” 

Luka gestures at the couple with his free arm, using the other to pull Marcin’s head to his shoulder. When Marcin shakes his head no, he feels the motion acutely. 

“I don’t know how. I prefer watching, anyways.” 

Marcin doesn’t know how long they sit in silence after; maybe a few seconds, maybe an hour. After too long, he starts to shiver beneath the jacket that Luka forced him into. Luka curses when he notices and starts to stand up, but Marcin doesn’t let him. 

“Please,” Marcin whispers, feeling the events of the day catch up to him. “Don’t leave. Just stay here with me for a bit.”

Surprise stuns Luka in place, but concern spurs him back into action. “OK,” he agrees easily before pulling Marcin up with him. The Pole yelps in shock, emitting a sound that would draw teases under any other circumstance. “But we can’t sit out here like this, _ljubavi_. It’s too cold now.” 

Luka splits his attention as he leads them back to the hotel, eyes trained on the path in front of him while his mind focused on his boyfriend trailing plaintively behind him. He curses himself for forgetting the steep nighttime temperature drop and praises himself for booking a hotel in Time Square in equal measures. With Rockefeller being only a few blocks away, Luka is crowding Marcin into their shared room and hustling him under too many blankets before long.

He’s halfway through setting up the coffee machine to brew a cup of hot chocolate before Marcin’s words come back to him, and he pauses despite the urgency that consumed him just seconds ago. He uses the time that the machine affords him to take a few breaths, watching the cup grow steadily fuller before turning to Marcin once it's done. 

Marcin is on his phone when he approaches, seemingly scrolling through twitter and liking a tweet every so often. He looks up as Luka approaches, and Luka feels his heart break as guilt fills grey pools. 

“I’m sorry we had to leave so soon,” Marcin mumbles as he accepts the cup. He swirls the contents around without sipping, staring vacantly into the paper cup. “And sorry I ruined our Christmas date. I know you didn’t want to talk about this today.”

“Oh, Marcin,” Luka sighs, settling down heavily beside the bundle of blankets. " _Ljubavi_. Don’t be sorry. It was cold, and you were poorly dressed for it. I’d rather you be warm.” He watches Marcin take a small sip of his drink and thinks about running his hand through blond locks. “And it’s OK, honestly. If we have to talk about it, we will talk about it. It’s worse if it makes you feel this way, hmm?” 

“It feels stupid,” Marcin’s response is quiet. Luka wishes he would be louder, hates that he’s part of the reason why the Pole is so muted. “I know that it will be fine, but so soon, Luka…” 

“Things will change,” Luka sighs, taking the cup from Marcin and setting it aside. He pulls Marcin’s torso into his lap, heart aching when his arms twist to wrap around his waist. “And it will be challenging. But that’s OK. We will have each other.” He presses a kiss to Marcin’s nose when their eyes meet. “And soon, you’ll retire anyways. And I’ll be waiting for you, just like we planned.” 

Marcin flushes at the reminder, gaze cast towards the bustling crowds of Time Square during Christmas. “Sorry,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “I can’t imagine it like this right now, but thank you.” Then, he sighs. “We didn’t even take that many pictures today.”

Luka exhales into a small smile and gently pushes Marcin into a sitting position. “Don’t worry, it’s completely fine. I will just have to prove it to you then.” When Luka leaves the bed, Marcin reaches to grab him until he realizes that their bag full of gifts lay abandoned by the door. He watches with some curiosity as Luka digs through it, confusion flickering across his face as a dented beige box is triumphantly revealed from the mess. He doesn’t move when Luka returns to him.

“Here,” Luka says as the box is passed into his hands. “It’s not much, but I saw it at the market today and thought you would like it.” 

When he opens the box, Marcin’s gasp is louder than any of the words shared since they arrived back at the hotel. He pulls out a floor-length red skirt, along with a matching poinsettia flower crown. Luka lets out an anxious chuckle at the response.  
  
“Do you like it? I saw a girl with the flower crown at the Market and asked her where she bought it. I had to rush to buy it before we left; it was actually a matching piece for the skirt.” 

Marcin pulls out the skirt and watches the bottom of it flutter to the floor. Beside him, Luka takes the flower crown out of the box and settles it on Marcin’s head, looking fairly alarmed as his eyes well up with tears. “Luka,” he cries, throwing his arms around the Croatian and pulling him into a kiss. “You’re actually smurfing with the Christmas gifts. I love it; I love it so much.”

He feels the tension bleed from Luka’s form at the admission. “I’m glad; I wasn’t sure if you would enjoy it since it’s mostly seasonal,” he admits before checking the time and gaining a sudden burst in energy. “But go! Change into it right now. It’s not too late to take some pictures!” 

“Oh, Luka,” Marcin sing-songs, moving to do just that, “You dog. You just wanted me in a skirt, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, of course,” Luka laughs, though only the twinkling stars in the sleepless night know that this is only a half-truth. Luka would do anything to make Marcin smile.

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ 

The area around the Christmas tree in Rockefeller is lively when they arrive, so it’s easy to find someone to take a photo of them in front of the lights garnishing the tree. When Luka accepts his phone back from a kind stranger, he can’t help but snap a few solo shots of Marcin, haloed by the tree’s iridescent brilliance. 

Later, he’ll look back at all these photos and remember both the good and the bad of the day, softened by Marcin’s gentle smile through a screen that does it no justice. But here, in the concrete jungle under the muted gaze of the moon of the City that Never Sleeps, Luka can’t imagine being anywhere else.


End file.
